The Morgensterns
by mundane-pansycakes
Summary: Clary Morgenstern is an astounding Shadowhunter, born and raised in Idris. She trains alongside her mother and brother, Jonathan. Her father is a notorious member of the Clave, having taken it over before she was born and making it more just. When she travels to New York with her family, she meets a mysterious blonde-haired boy and learns so much more about Shadowhunting.
1. Chapter 1

"Why are we going to New York, again?" Clary asked, looking up from her sketchbook and turning towards her mother. She was just finishing a drawing of a Shadowhunter in battle, slashing a seraph blade across the body of a slithering demon.

"So that we can meet up with some old friends. We haven't seen them in years," Jocelyn said as she finished placing the last of her clothes in her suitcase. She zipped it up quickly and flipped it off the bed and onto the floor. "You'll like them. They have four kids, too. Right around your age, I think."

Clary didn't respond. Instead, she shoved her sketchbook back in her bag and shrugged it over her shoulders. Her suitcase was already packed, waiting near the portal, and she was anxious to get going. The sooner they left, the sooner the trip would be over. "I'm going to miss training, you know," Clary said after a while. Clary had never missed a day of training in her life, albeit when she was poisoned by a Greater Demon one time.

"You can train there. They have a marvelous training facility," Jocelyn countered, smiling. Clary rolled her eyes, but she was smiling too. "Valentine? Jonathan? Are you almost ready?" she called upstairs, rolling her suitcase to the library, where the portal was hidden.

"We're right here," Jonathan said from behind her, scaring Jocelyn slightly. They were already waiting in the library. Valentine was kneeling down, setting up the portal for the correct destination. Jonathan was leaning against the wall, a book propped open on his knee. He continued to read as he talked. "We're staying with the Lightwoods, right?"

"Yes," Jocelyn said, leaning over and kissing Valentine gently on the head. "They're some of our good friends from a while ago. We've visited them a few times without you, but we thought you'd like to come this time.

"Like to?" Jonathan raised an eyebrow, making Clary laugh. She felt the same.

"Okay, we thought you _should _come. They would love to meet you," Jocelyn laughed. "Now, let's go! We're supposed to be there by six for dinner." Everybody hustled their things together and lined up in front of the portal. Valentine headed in first, followed by Clary, Jonathan and finally Jocelyn.

Clary tumbled out of the portal and landed on her hands and knees in an unfamiliar apartment. Her family was all there, luckily, and Clary looked around questioningly. "This is an Institute?" she wondered, slightly confused.

"Of course not, Clarissa. This is our friend Dorothea's house. She's one of the few in New York with a portal," Valentine explained, wrapping an arm around his daughter. Clary looked around for the woman, but the house was empty. She must be out. "Come on, let's get going. The Institute is only a few blocks away."

Valentine pulled his daughter outside the door and she leaned against him gratefully. Jonathan and Jocelyn followed, carrying their bags as they walked down the busy New York streets. Clary looked around in excitement at the city. Sure, she hadn't really wanted to leave Idris for a stupid, mundane city. But now that she was here, it seemed pretty cool. Bright lights flashed everywhere; buildings towered up to the sky.

They passed a diner that was glamoured and Clary caught a glimpse of some Downworlders inside: a tall vampire drinking a glass of blood, a blue warlock talking with a petite faerie, some werewolves laughing over mugs of root-beer. She was too busy looking in the window that she bumped into a mundane boy. He had messy brown hair, glasses, and a lame T-shirt that read "Made in Brooklyn." Clary almost laughed at the sight of him. "Sorry," he muttered, staring at her. She cursed when she realized she wasn't glamoured and awkwardly smiled at the boy.

He was looking at her with wide eyes, completely in awe. She was wearing her gear, skintight black leather that clung to her fit form. Her fiery hair was braided to the side and her cheeks were flushed. "It's my fault," she apologized. She should have been paying attention.

She quickly brushed past the mundie and caught up with her family, who were walking up the steps of what looked like a church. But Clary knew better. She ripped away the glamour and saw a standard Institute before her. On the steps, opening the door, was a young boy, maybe eight, with dark hair and glasses too big for his face. "Hey, Max!" Jocelyn smiled, running up to greet the boy. He smiled as she ruffled his hair, bending down to his level. "How are you?"

"Pretty good. My parents are finally letting me train!" he exclaimed. Usually Shadowhunters didn't start training till they were a bit older, so the boy was overjoyed.

"That's awesome!" Jocelyn grinned, standing up. "May we come in?"

"Yeah," the boy said, opening the door wider. The family piled in, and followed Max in and out of the elevator. "MOM! DAD! THE MORGENSTERNS ARE HERE!" He yelled. A tall woman with long black hair and sharp features appeared out of a doorway, covering her ears.

"Max, I told you not to yell in the house," she scolded and the boy shrugged. The woman just laughed and walked over to greet the Morgensterns. "Jocelyn, Valentine, it's so good to see you!" she smiled, hugging each of them.

"Same to you, Maryse " Valentine replied, kissing her cheek. "How many years has it been?"

"Too many," said Maryse, smiling at them. "I'm so glad you could join us for the weekend. Robert's finishing up some work. He'll be down shortly."

"No problem," Valentine smiled. "Clary, Jonathan, this is Maryse Lightwood. She runs the Institute here in New York."

"Nice to meet you," Clary said, holding out her hand. Jonathan did the same and the two awkwardly stepped away to let the adults talk. They chattered for a while, catching up on the latest events. Clary was about to take out her sketchbook to pass the time as Jonathan already had his book out, but the little boy walked back in again. "Um, do you guys want to pick out your rooms?" he asked.

"Sure," Clary agreed, snatching her bag up and following the boy. "I'm Clary, by the way. This is my brother, Jonathan." He nodded towards the boy in acknowledgement.

"Max," the boy said, leading them down the hall. They were loads of empty bedrooms, none of which seemed to have every been occupied. "Just pick any of them. Except those," he said, gesturing to four bedrooms, each one with the door slammed shut.

"Cool, thanks," Clary said, dropping her bag in the entrance of the third room on the left.

"Do you want to meet my brothers?" the kid said randomly. Clary looked towards her brother and he shrugged. _Why not? _The siblings followed him down another hall and through a big doorway. Behind it was the largest training room Clary had ever seen, aside from the one at her school. It was decked out with different blades and weapons, ropes and beams, everything you could imagine. And standing in the middle of the room, fighting hand-to-hand were two older boys. One looked exactly like Max, but much older and with a stronger, more muscular build. His eyes were bright and blue and he seemed to be losing the fight.

The other was tall and lean, his muscles sticking out under his gear. His hair was golden, matching his fiery eyes, and Clary imagined he looked like a lion. He was winning easily, extending his arms and legs in swift, skilled motions. After just a minute of watching, the dark-haired boy collapsed to the floor in defeat. "And _that's _why I'm the best Shadowhunter here," the blonde one smirked, helping his friend up.

"Yeah, and you're also the biggest jerk," he laughed. They both put away their weapons before finally noticing the crowd they hand. The older version of Max looked at Clary and Jonathan curiously before addressing Max. "Hey, Max, who's this?"

"This is Clary and Jonathan Morgenstern. Some of Mom and Dad's friends. They're staying with us for a few days," Max explained.

"Oh," he said, looking up to meet them. "I'm Alec, by the way. Do you live in Idris?" he asked.

"Yeah," Clary sighed. She wasn't really focused on him. She was still watching the other guy, who was watching them from the back of the training room. Clary squinted, trying to get a better look at him. She noticed the parabatai rune snaking up his arm and quickly glanced over to see a matching one on Alec's arm. Clary looked down at her own parabatai rune, the one she shared with her brother, and smiled. Hopefully they'd get a chance to train together while here. "Is that your brother? What's his name?" Clary asked of him. Alec turned around to follow her gaze. He was watching him almost yearningly, pain in his eyes. Clary raised her eyebrows at this but didn't mention it, as Alec quickly faced her again.

"Yeah," Alec grinned as the golden-haired boy inspected a seraph blade, his eyes on Clary. "That's Jace. Jace Herondale."


	2. Chapter 2

**I didn't realize how bitchy Clary is in this fic until now. Oh well. I guess that's what happens when Valentine is your father!**

* * *

"Herondale?" Clary said, her eyes widening. "I thought he was your brother." The golden-haired boy, Jace, was now walking over to them, clearly intrigued by her stares.

"Adoptive brother," the boy said in a thick, Idris accent. He didn't smile with his lips, but his eyes were bright, boring into Clary. "My parents died in the war. The Lightwoods so kindly took me in."

"The war?" Jonathan asked, impressed. "Your parents fought alongside our father, then."

Jace surveyed him, glancing up and down at the older boy. He was tall and buff, with stark blonde hair and an almost cold smile. He looked familiar. "Ah, Valentine's son, then? Well, it's a pleasure to have such _royalty _here at the Institute." His voice was laced with heavy sarcasm. Clary rolled her eyes.

Ever since the First Mortal War, back before Clary was born, her father has been well-known by Shadowhunters everywhere. He helped to change the way the Clave acted, evolve it into a more fair system. He was the leader of the revolution, and the mention of his name always drew in attention.

"You don't like our father, do you?" Clary asked, squinting at him.

"I never said that," Jace answered before turning to his parabatai. "I'll be in my room if you need me." With that he pushed pash Clary, shouldering her purposefully, and strutted away. Clary watched him go, somewhat mesmerized before Jonathan twisted her back around.

"What's his problem?" he asked Alec.

"Nothing. That's just how Jace is," Alec said. He was watching the door where Jace had just walked through and Clary got a feeling that he felt something more than just friendliness towards Jace."Hey, Max, why don't you go see where Izzy is?" Alec asked him. The little boy nodded before running out of the training room, off to find who Clary assumed was his sister.

"So, you're parabatai," Clary said, more of a statement than a question.

Alec looked at the dark rune winding on his arm before smiling at her. "Yeah. Ever since we started training." Clary tried to imagine the tough, blonde boy and the confusing dark-haired one fighting as little boys, binding their souls to each other. She remembered here parabatai ceremony with Jonathan, when she was just 10 years old. Her older brother would have allowed her to wait, but Clary had insisted that they do it early. Not that he was complaining - Jonathan loved Clary more than any other, she was his best friend - but he had wanted what's best for her. Clary, though, puppy-eyed her way into convincing her father of letting them become parabatai. His father tensed up at the subject, having had a parabatai that had _deceased_, but allowed it. Valentine rarely spoke of his old parabatai. Clary assumed their was a story behind his supposed death, but she knew better than to pry. Her father was a double-edged sword. He could both hurt and help, be cruel and be kind. "As you two are," Alec notes, raising his eyebrows at their matching runes.

"Of course," Jonathan smiled. "Clary is the best fighter I know. I train with the best." He pinched her cheek like she was a little girl and Clary shooed his hand away, laughing.

"As do I," Alec said of Jace.

"I don't know. Clary could probably take him easily," Jonathan said. Clary thought about how the lion-like boy had fought so gracefully, so quickly, while training with Alec. The way he handled his seraph blade. His sharp movements. Clary wasn't too sure. "She _is _the best Shadowhunter at our school in Idris."

"Oh, really? I don't know how Jace would feel about that," the boy with the blue eyes smile.

"Speaking of feelings . . . How do you feel about Jace?" Clary inquired. Jonathan nudged her in the side.

Alec immediately tensed up, his eyes widening and his jaw becoming hard. He stiffened and looked angrily at Clary. "That's none of your business."

"It's obvious, Alec. I just wanted to make sure you knew that." Jonathan was looking down at her condescendingly, but she didn't care. She was naturally curious. "What's stopping you from making a move?"

"It's not that simple, Clary Morgenstern. He feels differently." Alec looked sad for just a moment before realizing what he was saying, "And I suggest that you stay out of it," Alec said, his blue eyes cold.

Before Clary could apologize, realizing her rudeness, a voice echoed down the hall. "Alec! Dinner!" A second later a tall, beautiful girl appeared in the doorway. Jonathan sucked in his breath and Clary scowled. She was dressed in a skimpy black dress with a low v cut, exposing an angelic power rune right in the center of her chest. She had on patterned tights and black leather boots, with heels taller than Clary could possibly imagine. She had a black jacket thrown over it, her dark, curling hair flowing over it. She had on bright red lipstick and her eyes, which were dark brown, were hard. Tough.

"Hey, Iz. This is, uh, Clary and Jonathan Morgenstern," Alec introduced, now void of any warmth. Clary felt bad that she had brought Jace up, but there was no going back. She'd apologize later. "This is my sister, Isabelle Lightwood."

"Pleasure to meet you," Jonathan smiled, his voice low. He was staring at her in complete awe. She looked him over then shrugged, as if she was expecting worse.

She quickly dismissed him, though, and faced her brother. "Dinner's ready, Alec. Let's go."

They all left the training room, Alec and Isabelle talking ahead of them, probably about Clary. The Morgensterns trailed behind, realizing how awkward this was going to be. A whole weekend with the mysterious boy, the angry brother, and the gorgeous mistress. Yay.

They reached the kitchen, a simple but elegant room with a long table across the back wall. Her parents were already seated, laughing with a man who must be Robert Lightwood. Jocelyn was beside him, leaning over the table to get in closer. Valentine was next to her and he was watching her lovingly. Max was sitting across from them, reading a comic book. Maryse was standing at the stove, her hair tied back in a tight bun. When they entered, she turned happily towards her kids.

"Oh, good, you've all met!" she said. Her voice was happy and warm, but Clary got the feeling she wasn't always like this. She had sharp lines on her face and her smile seemed almost unnatural. Isabelle and Alec seemed just as surprised to see their mother so joyous. "Let's all sit and eat!"

Jonathan took the seat next to his mother and Clary sat beside him. Isabelle and Alec slid into the seats across from them, next to their younger brother. Maryse placed a few dishes on the table and then took a seat beside Robert. Clary was about to start eating when somebody brushed her side, making her jump.

It was Jace, taking the seat beside her and digging into his plate, a mischievous grin on his face. Clary tried not to get too distracted.


	3. Chapter 3

"The Inquisitor? Really, Valentine?" Robert Lightwood asked, raising an eyebrow. Clary groaned inwardly. This dinner was excruciatingly boring.

"Yes, she was just called in yesterday for the interrogation," Valentine replied before taking a bite of chicken. They had been discussing a case involving rogue Downworlders and their Shadowhunter ally, all of whom are being held in the Silent City for further investigation. Clary knew from her father that bringing in the Inquisitor was no small precaution; it was serious.

Imogen Herondale, Clary remembered, was the current Inquisitor. Clary slit her eyes slightly towards Jace, who was leaning back in his chair and twirling his stele in his fingers. She wondered if he and Imogen were close, since they were family. Is the Inquisitor even close with anybody? She wasn't exactly a friendly, warm person. But then again, neither was Jace.

"Clary," Jonathan whispered, nudging her in the side and swooping her out of her train of thought. She turned towards her brother expectantly, ignoring the parents' voices droning in the background. "Do you want to go have some fun after this?"

"Fun?" Clary laughed. Jonathan was well-known for being the perfect child of the family. He always kissed up to his father and the Clave, always trained hard and studied for hours. Valentine was strict in raising his children, but Clary had never been much for the uptight rules. Jonathan always followed them, though, and the mention of "fun" surprised her.

"Yeah," he said, rolling his eyes. "There's this nightclub down the street I heard about. We could go there, maybe catch some demons?" Jonathan smiled at her and she couldn't help but nod. A party sounded fun, just what she needed. And if there were demons there, it would just be the cherry on top.

"What are we going to tell Dad?" Clary asked. Her father surely wouldn't want her going to some filthy, Downworld club. He despised Downworlders - that was the whole point of the war, after all. Clary didn't mind them; they were just people, after all. But there was still no way he'd let her go to this club.

"Don't worry. I've got it," Isabelle smirked from the opposite side, eavesdropping. She must've been the one who suggested it to Jonathan.

"Oh, okay," Clary said, taken aback. The girl didn't seem too thrilled by Clary's presence a while ago, but now she seemed fine. "Thanks."

The girl ignored this and returned to her dinner, talking to her older brother quietly. His eyes, still icy blue, bore into Clary and she immediately felt guilty for asking him about Jace earlier.

"Well, that was lovely, Maryse. Thank you so much," Jocelyn smiled.

"It's my pleasure. Do you wish to come to the library with us for some drinks?" she suggested to the adults. They all agreed and stood up, leaving the kids seated.

"Hey, mom?" Isabelle asked in a sweet, innocent like voice. Completely different from her tough, outer shell. "We'd like to show the Morgensterns around town. Do you think that'd be okay?"

Maryse looked over at Robert, who shrugged, not seeming to care. "Fine. But don't stay out late."

"Are you sure that's safe?" Valentine asked, not convinced. He knew that the Lightwoods were more lenient with how they raised their children, and Clary could see in the creases of his face that he didn't agree with it. "It's already dark."

"We'll be fine, Mr. Morgenstern," Isabelle said. "We are Shadowhunters, after all. I won't let anything happen to your precious son and daughter."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that. They're perfectly capable of defending themselves," Valentine laughed. Isabelle just raised one eyebrow.

"Valentine, honey, let them go have fun. They deserve it," Jocelyn sighed, rolling her eyes but laughing. Clary smiled at the victory.

"Thanks, mom," I said, kissing her on the cheek and then doing the same to my father. "We'll be back later!" With that, the five of them all headed into the elevator, leaving Max alone with the adults and his comic books. "You're all coming?"

"What, did you expect us to stay home with our parents?" Jace sneered. "I like to have a little fun."

Clary noticed his glinting, golden eyes and tried not to keep staring. She failed. He gave her a teasing smile when he caught her watching and she quickly flipped her head away. "So, what is this place?"

"Pandemonium," said Isabelle. They emptied out of the elevator and Isabelle smoothly peeled off her leather jacket to reveal her bare shoulders and tossed it onto a coat rack by the door. She had a red pendant hanging around her neck and she kept glancing down at it as they walked. Jace snatched a small knife out of his back pocket and gripped it in his hands. They were ready to fight. "Keep walking."

Clary tried not to laugh as the girl strutted past her so fiercely. She was so intense. Jonathan smiled at her and linked his arm in hers before they continued walking together. They walked for about ten minutes, mostly in silence. She could hear Jace making jokes with Isabelle and Alec from in front of them, but they were mostly inaudible. Finally, they approached a seemingly abandoned warehouse, glowing blue light sneaking out through the cracks of the doors. She could feel the vibrations of the music, the rumble of the crowd. A glowing blue sign with an angelic power rune in the center read "Pandemonium Club." The "Demon" within the word was highlighted. Clary smirked and removed her own blade.

Isabelle led them through a back alleyway, to a locked door. The front door had a line stretching almost a block, and Isabelle was not the kind of girl to wait. She quickly scribbled a rune on the door and it clicked open. The five piled inside, landing in a storage room.

The Lightwood seemed familiar with the place, weaving her way easily through the boxes and shelves until they reached another doorway. This one led straight to the club, right into the mix of pulsing music and shaking bodies. The pendent around Isabelle's neck began to glow a dim red, and Isabelle smirked. Clary wondered what it was. "Spread out everybody," Jace winked. "And have some fun." With that he ran his fingers across his blade before taking off into the mosh pit.

"There's always a few demons here. Meet back at this door in an hour or two," Isabelle informed them before striding off. She unwound what Clary thought was a golden bracelet from her wrist and revealed an electrum whip. Isabelle twirled it in her hands as she wove through the crowd.

Alec gave Clary one more curious look before disappearing as well. Just Clary and Jonathan were left. "Well, I suppose we have some fun?"

"Please, you don't know how to have fun," Clary laughed, dragging her brother into the crowd. The music was loud and Jonathan could barely hear her beside him, but it didn't matter. He could read her lips, which were turned upwards into an energetic smile.

"I spot some vampires," Jonathan called near her ear. Clary whipped around to see where he was pointing. Sure enough, there were two vampires dancing in the center of the floor with some young girls. "You want fun? I'll show you fun," Jonathan grinned wickedly. Just like his father.

"Jon, no!" Clary scolded, pulling him back. "Let them be. Demons only."

"But they're Downworlders, Clary!" her brother insisted. He didn't understand Clary's thoughts on the Downworlders; he believed every word his father said of the "filthy beings."

"Yes, and they're just having fun, too. They're not causing anybody harm, Jonathan." Clary watched as the vampire seemed to notice them staring. He tensed up, his eyes wide and his body stiff. He glanced at the blades in their hands and Clary instantly felt guilty. The Downworlders have lived in fear ever since the war, deathly afraid of Shadowhunters. And it was all her father's fault. "Come on, let's go."

Jonathan sighed but followed her through the club. They pushed through the gyrating bodies, withstood the pounding music, and finally caught sight of someone suspicious. A young girl, maybe 14, was sitting on top of the tables, surrounded by a bunch of older guys. She was dressed in a bright red dress, barely covering her petite body. Her hair was died different colors and her eyes were an electric green. Clary immediately recognized the girl as a demon and gestured for Jonathan to take a look.

"Ready?" Clary asked, smiling excitingly. She always had a rush of adrenaline when fighting. The atmosphere only added to her thrill.

"Go!"


	4. Chapter 4

Clary sliced at the demon with her seraph blade, which cleanly cut off the girl's left hand. Clary could have killed her quick, but she liked to make a show of it. Have some fun.

The boys around them quickly dispersed and Clary wondered what they saw with the glamour. Jonathan was opposite of her and he smoothly flipped the girl onto the floor with the pull of her leg. Jonathan held her down, a wicked grin on his face, while Clary lowered the seraph blade above the girl. Green ichor flowed out of the girls stump of an arm and she clutched it fiercely with her remaining hand. "That was fun," Clary laughed before smashing the blade through the girl's heart. She dissipated into a pile of dust.

"The vampire would've been better. She didn't even put up a fight," Jonathan said, brushing demon blood off of his arm.

"Yeah, well, I don't think Downworlders should die. Not unless they do something wrong." Clary snatched her stele from her pocket and pulled his hand to her. "That blood could be poisonous, you know," she added as she smoothly drew an iratze on his skin. Jonathan did the same to her, just to be safe, before they melted in with the crowd of people again.

"You really are a great fighter," a familiar voice said. Clary whirled around to see Jace standing there, leaning against the bar and watching her. "But I'm better."

"Oh, yeah?" Clary countered. "How many demons did you kill tonight?"

"None," the boy said simply. "I've been too busy enjoying the view." He looked pointedly at her and Clary blushed.

"Watch it, Herondale," Jonathan said. He was always pretty protective of his little sister.

"Why don't you go find my sister? I'm sure you would be of some amusement to her," Jace smirked. Jonathan, despite his anger, seemed to like the idea of that. He glanced at Clary for an answer. Clary just shrugged. Truthfully, she wanted some alone time with the boy, but she wouldn't say it. Jonathan would just tease her for it.

"I'll see you later," he said. He glared at Jace for another moment before disappearing in the crowd in search for Isabelle.

"Do you dance?" Jace asked her. He was watching the crowd of bodies all swaying to the pounding music. Clary tried not to focus to much on his disheveled hair and his brilliant eyes.

"No."

"Yes, you do," Jace smiled and pulled her into the crowd. Clary tried to shake his grasp away but she soon realized she didn't want to. His touch on her arm was warm and fiery, sending a pleasant sensation through her body.

Despite the fast, rock music pounding through the speakers, Jace placed her arms on his shoulders and his on her waist as if it was slow dance. He started stepping side to side, pulling her along. "See," he grinned, amused at Clary's failed attempts. "It's not that hard."

Clary didn't respond; instead she focused on matching her feet with his. His voice was so tempting. She leaned into him, in sync with his steps, and closed her eyes for a moment. It felt perfect. This strange, obnoxious yet gorgeous guy was dancing with her and it felt amazing. Like magic.

"So, you're from Idris?" she said after a long while.

"Yes. My mother and father lived there before the war. My father, as you know, perished fighter and my mother died giving birth." His voice was cold and empty of any emotions. Was he even sad about it? "I stayed there for a while longer with my grandmother. But she's not the most welcome of people, so I eventually came to the Institute."

"Your grandmother?" Clary asked. "The Inquisitor?"

He laughed and his eyes lit up with amusement. "Yes. Living with her was like having a lie detector attached to you permanently. Not much fun." Even Clary smiled at that. She'd met the Inquisitor once or twice and she'd never liked the way her cold eyes bore into you as if reading your secrets. "Do you like your father?"

The question caught Clary off guard and she hesitated before speaking. "Yes! Of course; he's my father. What kind of question is that?" she said. But even as she said it she felt as if she was lying somehow. She _did _love Valentine, but maybe not completely. The things he thought about Downworlders . . . his idea of a just Clave. It wasn't exactly what Clary stood for.

_No. You're acting stupid, Clary. He's your father. Of _course _you love him! _she scolded herself.

"What do you think of him?" she asked Jace, trying to get her mind away from those horrible thoughts.

"I think that he doesn't understand the true purpose of the Shadowhunter. He doesn't believe in the love that it takes to serve the Nephilim as a warrior. He thinks passion, caring, _loving _isn't a strength, but a weakness."

"To love is to destroy," Clary finished, staring vacantly at him. The phrase had been repeated over and over by her father to her since she was born. He always told her that love was his greatest weakness; the love he had for Jocelyn, for Jonathan, for her. He wished he could get rid of it, to be stronger. Clary was brought up believing that, no matter what could happen to the ones she loved, she would have to choose the right choice for a Shadowhunter. It didn't matter if it was her mother on the line, or her brother; she was raised to believe that being Nephilim was above all of that. "And that to be loved is to be the one destroyed."**

Before Clary could react, his lips were against hers. She gasped against them but then quickly relaxed into the kiss, moving her hands up to his neck. His slide up her body, making her shiver. His kiss was warm and delicate, but it still felt like fire.

And then it was over. "Uh . . wh- . . I - " Clary stuttered, unable to form a comprehensive sentence. Jace was just looking at her casually as if nothing happened and it frustrated her. Why did he kiss her? What is this game he's playing?

"Now if you don't mind, I'm going to _actually _slay some demons," Jace said. Clary opened her mouth to question him, to ask more, but he was already gone. Clary watched him as he left in frustration. Why was he playing with her like that?

Clary brushed it aside and charged off in the opposite direction, her emotions flaring, her mind buzzing. She couldn't figure out this boy, what he was trying to do. It made her both curious and furious at the same time. She felt as if she would explode thinking about him.

She ended up heading towards the bar again. She sat in the far left seat, near the wall, and asked for a cold glass of water. Whatever fuel she had for killing some demons was gone now; she just wanted to go home. _Home. To Idris. Not to this stupid Institute with this stupid Jace. _She sunk lower in her chair.

She glanced across the room as she drank her water and caught a glimpse of what looked like Alec, kissing someone against the wall. Clary squinted, trying to get a better look at the couple. It was definitely Alec, with his dark black hair and strong build. He was covered in thick runes that Clary knew all too well.

But what surprised her was that he wasn't kissing another Shadowhunter, or even a girl. But a warlock. Clary could tell. The boy pressed up against him was tall and lean, with sparkling, spikey black hair. He was wearing shimmering black pants and a loose purple tee, his arms tangled around Alec's neck. Clary raised her eyebrows at this but tried not to stare. She thought back to the way that Alec had looked at Jace earlier today and was glad that he had another distraction.

"Hey," somebody said from behind her, knocking her out of her thought process. She turned away from Alec and the warlock to see a familiar looking boy staring at her. She didn't know how she recognized him, but she did anyway. He had short brown hair and nerdy glasses, a goofy smile plastered on his face. "I ran into you earlier today."

Oh. _That's _how she knew him. "Oh, yeah. You're the 'Made in Brooklyn' kid," Clary laughed, remembering.

"I just thought, um, that you looked kind of lonely and thought you might want to talk," the boy suggested awkwardly. "I don't really like clubs that much. I came here . . . well, I don't know why I came here." He shrugged and slid onto the stool beside her. Usually, Clary would walk away from such a nerdy, mundie boy. But for some reason, she stayed in place. "I'm Simon by the way."

"Clary," she shrugged.

* * *

**credit to Cassandra Clare for this line. It is completely hers and I do not intend to copyright it.**


	5. Chapter 5

"Cool accent," the boy, Simon, said, still staring at her in a kind of starstruck manner. "Let me guess: your mom was British and your dad was Australian?" The boy gave her a crooked grin and Clary couldn't help but laugh. He was kind of adorable, in a weird, mundane way.

"Uh, close, but no," she giggled, taking a sip of the Coke she'd ordered.

"Where then?" the boy pushed on, obviously curious. Clary rolled her eyes.

"Just this little town called Idris. It's in Europe," she said, which wasn't exactly a lie. Her father would probably explode if he knew that Clary was telling a Mundie boy this kind of thing. But, what does it matter? It's not like Simon would go home and Google "Idris" and find out all about Shadowhunters. Clary didn't see it as a threat. "I'm here visiting my parents' friends. They're not all that friendly, though."

Simon shrugged apologetically. "That sucks. Well, if you ever, uh, get bored with them you could hang out with me sometime?"

Clary fought back a laugh. This poor, little mundie boy was trying to ask her out on a date. "I'll think about it," she lied. There was no way she was hanging out with him. He was nice and all, but Clary would _never _even consider dating a mundane. Talking to him right now already made her feel awkward. "I've gotta go," she said, standing up and leaving him there alone. She felt slightly bad about it, but pushed through the crowd anyway.

The club was packed tight. Clary got pushed and shoved as she squeezed through the sea of dancing bodies. Her head hurt from the loud music and she desperately wanted to go home. She sought out Jonathan, who had headed after Isabelle a while ago. There was no way he had any success with her - that girl was _way _out of his league. Jonathan wasn't a loser or anything; he was actually quite popular in Idris. He'd had plenty of girlfriends in the past, but Isabelle didn't seem like the kind of girl who settled for anybody.

Clary sighed as she came up with nothing on one end of the club. She trudged through the group until she finally found him, leaning against a wall, inspecting his stele. He looked kind of sad and lonely, and Clary didn't need to even ask about Isabelle. It was obvious she dismissed him. "Hey, Jonathan," she said, laying her hand on his shoulder.

"Clary," he sighed, relieved. "By the angel, I was worried that I'd lost you. Where were you?" he said, though he'd been the one who left her alone.

"I was with Jace a while ago," she admitted. The memory of his arms around her as they danced, his soft kiss on her lips, and his painfully abrupt goodbye, still lingered in her head. She tried not to think about it. "But it wasn't really that fun. I thought that this club might be . . . but I really just want to go home."

"Home? As in, Idris?"

"Yeah," Clary sighed, leaning on the wall beside him. "I don't get why we have to stay here for a week. It's stupid. Why couldn't mom and dad just come here?"

"Because mom's all about 'family,'" Jonathan laughed. Clary smiled, rolling her eyes. It was true, though. Valentine would have gladly left the kids at their house in Idris, or even just with some friends. But Jocelyn had insisted that they all travel together, stay a family. "But I don't actually think that's why we're here. I think they're bigger problems."

"What do you mean?" Clary furrowed her brow.

"I overheard Dad talking to the Consul about some sort of uprising amongst the Downworlders. How they were trying to take back their rights since before the War. I think Mom wanted to get us out of Idris for a while," Jonathan admitted.

"What?!" Clary exclaimed. This was _not _what she was expecting.

"I don't know." Jonathan ran a hand through his stark-white hair, closed his eyes. "I could be wrong. But whatever it is, Dad's not too happy about it."

"Do you think it has to do with, well, you know?" Clary raised an eyebrow. Jonathan would know what she was talking about.

"Probably." They were quiet for a long moment, their thoughts dissolving into the angry music and loud cheers. Clary almost forgot that they were still at the party, the topic seemed so out of place. "Let's get out of here."

The parabatai headed towards the back door they had come in. The Lightwoods wouldn't worry about them if they left early. The two charged onto the streets of New York City, now illuminated by glowing signs and bright lights. The air was chilly but Clary didn't shiver, she just kept walking, desperate to get home. "I think it's this way," she said when Jonathan wanted to turn left, not right.

"I don't know, Clarissa. I thought we came from that way," he said, trying to recall which way they had come.

"This way, promise," Clary said, pulling him to the right. They walked a few more blocks until they ended up in an area that didn't look so familiar. None of New York was unfamiliar to them, but this place was especially foreign.

"Promise?" Jonathan laughed, mocking her.

"Okay, so maybe it was left," Clary defended. "It's not that big of a deal. We just ha-"

Clary stopped, noticing the shadowy figure standing behind them. He was tall and buff and achingly recognizable. He had long, tangly hair, graying at the roots. His glasses were crooked on his nose, and his plaid shirt looked as if it had been put through more than one fight. The man would have looked harmless if it wasn't for the unmistakably sharp claws protruding from his fingertips. His nails stretched on forever, and Clary knew immediately that he wasn't alone. Her eyes searched the shadows for the rest of the group, the remaining members of his pack.

"What do you want?" Jonathan said confidently. He wasn't scared of Downwordlers; he would willingly slay hundreds of them. But after hearing about the possible uprising amongst them, Clary wasn't feeling too fearless. If he knew who they were - the son and daughter of Valentine Morgenstern - he would surely not be in the mood for a casual discuss. He would be out for blood.

"What I want, children of Valentine," he said, his voice raspy and tired, like he'd been waiting for this moment for years. "Is for my rights to be returned to me; to be welcomed back into Idris; and to reclaim the power that was taken from me by your father." The man growled and stepped forward. Clary swallowed and stepped back, her confidence slipping.

Out of the shadows came more shaky figures, though these ones were crouched low. Werewolves, a whole pack of them. Their eyes glowed in the moonlight, all settled right on Clary and Jonathan. One of them with a dark, gray coat stepped forward, but the man gestured for him to pull back. The wolf obliged. "Now, if you don't put up a fight, this will be much easier," he said.

"You think a bunch of Downworld scum scares us?" Jonathan laughed. But Clary knew he was scared. His jaw was quivering slightly and his eyes were wandering.

"Downworld scum? Ah, just like your father," the man growled. He laughed and made a gesture with his arms, sending the pack of wolves flying at the two Shadowhunters.

Clary screamed and reached for her dagger, just as she realized who the man was and why he was so familiar. She'd found a picture of him, once, in the attic. When she tried to bring him up with her father, he got very angry. He said that the man was disgusting and should never be spoken of, even if he was once Valentine's parabatai.

It was Lucian Graymark.


	6. Chapter 6

Clary's piercing scream cut through the night as she stabbed blindly at the wolves charging at her. She heard Jonathan grunting behind her as he was mobbed by wolves as well. She chopped at wolves with one hand as she reached for her silver dagger with the other.

A few of the wolves retreated back when they saw the silver, glinting in her hand in the darkness. She swung it out at the first wolf she saw and it immediately fell back, transforming back to a dark-skinned girl around Clary's age. She felt a ripple of guilt swell through her, but she had no choice. She had to defend herself.

"Stop!" Lucian cried, noticing that now both Clary _and _Jonathan had silver weapons on them. The wolves stopped clawing at them for a moment and the two Shadowhunters held up their weapons, ready to strike if needed but at bay. From the look on Lucian's face, it's clear that he was not expecting them to carry silver on a daily basis. However, the Morgensterns were always prepared. Valentine himself taught them so. "I already told you - if you don't put up a fight, this will be less painful. Surely my pack could take you down, despite your weapons."

Clary was about to make a snarky remark and continue battling them, but then she looked at the girl on the floor, crying in pain, pressing her fingers to a horrible looking burn on her right shoulder. She couldn't do it. The girl looked so innocent, so helpless. Just following her leader's rules. "No way we're just surrendering!" Jonathan laughed, raising his dagger.

"Jonathan, no," Clary sighed, slipping her daggers back into her belt. "We . . we can't do this. _I _can't do this. It isn't right."

Jonathan looked at her as if she was joking, almost smiling. When Clary didn't smile back, Jonathan's face contorted with confusion. "What do you _mean_ you can't do this? They're trying to take us and you're just going to let them?" He sounded disgusted.

One of the other werewolves had shifted back to their human form and was now aiding the other girl. He looked slightly older but still just as innocent. His face was twisted in pain as he tried to help the girl recover. It was obvious he loved her. "I can't hurt them, Jon. I - He's right. They deserve more rights. Downworlders . . . they're nothing less than us." Clary felt like she was making a revelation, finally realizing this. She'd put up with her father's ideas for her whole life despite her disagreement with them. She knew they were wrong; and now it was her time to finally make things right. "Lucian, I want to help you to change things back to the way they were before the war." She looked him straight in the eyes and he smiled slightly.

"You're so much like your mother," he mumbled, thinking that she couldn't hear. But she did and Clary quickly remembered that Lucian used to be a Shadowhunter, training alongside her parents. There was pain on his face, regret and sorrow twisted in each contour. He cared for her mother, Jocelyn. Clary could tell that he did. But why? She was anxious to the know the full story. "What about you, Jonathan Morgenstern? Will you join your sister? Or are you too much like your father?"

Jonathan opened in his mouth in surprise and shifted his gaze between Lucian and his sister. "I'm sorry, Clary. I . . . I can't betray our father." He looked at her with confliction and ache, but then took off running in the opposite direction. The wolves were too stunned to go after him, as were Clary and Luke.

Clary's heart throbbed as she realized her brother was gone. _Gone. _He'd chosen to fight on their father's side rather than hers. And now she was alone in this endeavor as a Shadowhunter. No one else was mad enough to help her. They all believed in Valentine, had fought beside him. It was just her amongst a band of Downworlders.

"Now, Clarissa. If you'd really like to prove your loyalty to the cause, you could really do us a favor." Lucian gestured his hand to the girl lying on the floor, now in the boy's lap, and then raised his eyebrows at the dagger tucked in her pocket. Clary took a deep breath and nodded.

"What do you need me to do?"

* * *

"What do you want?" Alec sneered, looking Clary up and down. It was late at night - Clary had taken her time getting back to the Institute - but it was obvious Clary hadn't woken him. He was still dressed in his gear, the lights in his room peaking through the doorway.

"I need your help with something," she said impatiently. Lucian hadn't given her much time to complete the task. If she failed, they might as well eat her alive.

"Yes?" he sneered. It was obvious he detested Clary.

"Um, this girl I know . . . she's been injured. Badly. The only person who could heal it would be a warlock, but I don't know anyone from New York," she explained.

"What does this have to do with me exactly?" He raised his eyebrows. This wasn't going well, Clary thought.

"I saw you at Pandemonium with a warlock. It seemed like you guys were, uh close." Alec's face turend bright red and he shut his mouth tight. His eyes glowed with anger and embarrassment and Clary wished she had rephrased that. "I could really use his help."

"You shouldn't have seen that," he mumbled, still in shock.

"I don't care, Alec. I'm not judging you, okay? I think it's great if you found someone," Clary defended herself awkwardly. "I just really need his help. Now."

Alec stared at her one more time before closing the door. Clary thought she lost the battle and turned around to leave, feeling defeated. She had tried and failed, and now she was left in Lucian's hands.

But then the door opened again and Alec came back out, a coat tugged over his gear and a phone in hand. "One rule." Clary waited for him to continue, trying to hide the relief on her face. "You don't tell anyone about this. And Jace and Isabelle have to come."

"That's two rules," Clary laughed. Alec glared back at her. "Fine. Just, please, hurry up. This girl could die." Alec sighed but nodded. She watched as he dialed a number on his phone and held it to his ear.

"Magnus? . . . Yeah, it's me . . . I need some help healing this girl . . . I know, I know, but please? For me? . . . Yeah, meet me . . ." Alec looked at Clary to finish the statement.

"Firestation." Alec looked surprised but repeated it back into the phone: "Meet me at the firestation. Thanks . . Love you." He mumbled the last part but Clary still caught it. She couldn't help but smile as Alec blushed, tucking the phone away in his pocket.

"Why the firestation?" Alec asked, suspicious, as they headed down the hallway to get the others.

"Um, I don't know. That's where she is, I guess."

"That's strange," Alec said, squinting his eyes. "I'm pretty sure that's where the werewolves congregate."

Clary was about to mention that they were, indeed, going to help save a female werewolf. But just then, Jace opened his door. He looked slyly over at Clary and she remembered the heated kiss in Pandemonium just hours ago. But then his attention was back on Alec as he explained the situation to him. He nodded along and pulled out his stele in excitement, anxious for some action.

They filled Isabelle in, as well, and then headed down to the elevator. "Isn't your brother coming?" Jace asked as they rode down, smiling at her devilishly. What game was he playing?

"No," Clary said sadly. Jace got the message and backed off.

"So, who exactly are we going to help save?" Isabelle asked. She seemed slightly annoyed that she was being brought on this mission, but curious nonetheless.

Clary shook her head and shrugged. "This girl I, uh, accidentally injured."

"Name, please?" Isabelle snarled.

"Maia, I think," Clary shrugged. "She _may _or may not be a werewolf." The whole group groaned in annoyance.


	7. Chapter 7

"Hold on - we're going out in the middle of the night to help save a _Downworlder? _You're kidding, right," Alec snapped, obviously angered. Clary probably should have told them that they were going to be saving a werewolf earlier, but she couldn't find the words. After all, she was only doing this to gain Lucian's trust, to help give the Downworlders more power. Why would the Lightwoods want to help her?

"It's complicated," Clary sighed, walking swiftly down the streets of New York. Lucian had given her directions to the fire-station and she was easily making her way there. "I just . . I need to help her, okay? It's part of a deal."

"What kind of deal?" Jace asked slyly, not liking the sound of this. Even someone such as himself knew that there were some limits when it came to Shadowhunting. And deals were usually not a good thing.

Clary cursed under her breath and turned around, stopping in her tracks. The others stopped and listened. Isabelle placed a hand on her hip like she was bored. "Listen, I just promised this guy that I'd help save her. That's all."

"What's in it for you?" Alec questions.

Clary starts to speak but then realizes that they could all walk away now. If they learn that she's helping the Downworlders revolt against the laws her own father set in motion, they could ruin her. Kill her right here. But she had to tell them information or they wouldn't help. Alec would tell the warlock to forget it and she'd be left to heal a silver wound on her own. "I'm helping the Downworlders, okay? Well, I'm trying to. They're treated so unfairly and they deserve better. My father's stupid. His laws are unjustified and unequal. I'm trying to help the Downworlders take him down."

No one expected her to say that.

"You're _what?" _Isabelle gasped, obviously surprised. At the same time, Jace and Alec exchanged a curious glance.

"Helping them take back their rights," she mutters, a little embarrassed.

"And why, exactly?" Jace asks, not exactly accusingly, but not exactly kindly, either.

"Because it's unfair! My father and his stupid hatred for them is just horrible. I'm sick of hearing about how the Nephilim are so much better than them. They're people, too," Clary argues.

No one counters this. Instead, surprisingly, Alec nods his head in agreement. "Can I join?" His sister gives him a warning glance but he ignores it.

"Um, yeah, I'm sure you can. I'm helping this girl - Maia - to prove my loyalty to them. By helping me out, I'm sure that's enough to let you in." Clary shrugs, not really sure how to react. She was _not _expecting him to want to help her. "You really are on their side?"

"Of course," Alec said, finally sounding confident. "There are so many Downworlders I know who deserve better. It's about time someone stood up to Valentine."

"I'm in, too," Jace said dryly, as if they were discussing a game of baseball. "I won't lie; I hate your father." He cracks a smile that makes Clary stop and stare at him before regaining her composure, though she's blushing slightly.

"Isabelle?" Alec asked, turning to his sister. She had a fierce look on her face, the contemplation clear in her eyes.

She shifts her stare from Clary to Alec and then back again. Then she unwraps the electrum whip from around her wrist, slaps it against the air, and smiles. "I'm in."

Clary, taken aback by their support, smiles wide. "Great," she said. They continued towards the fire-station with a newfound confidence, all excited to join the rebellion.

"Who exactly are we proving our loyalty to?" Jace said after a short while, right as the station appeared in sight.

Clary swallowed hard as she pushed one hand on the door. "Their leader. Lucian Graymark."

* * *

"Clarissa," Lucian said as the group walked through the doors. He was leaning up against the brick walls, looking tense. The girl, Maia, lay on a bloody cot a few feet away. Others were circling around her, including the boy she'd seen before, holding Maia on the floor. "I see you've brought some friends."

"By the angel," Isabelle muttered, finally realizing who this person is. The former Shadowhunter turned Downworlder. The famous leader of the New York werewolf pack.

"Yes," Clary said, addressing Lucian. "They're here to help you as well. They support Downworlders, too." Clary felt weak talking to this rugged man with such a grim expression on his face. He looked so deprived of a happy life.

"Will they be able to help heal the girl?" he asked, obviously suspicious of the Lightwood gang.

"No," someone announced, an unfamiliar voice. Clary whirled around to see the warlock from Pandemonium leaning casually against the door. His eyes, which were yellow and catlike, gleamed in the darkness. His hands were lit up in a swirl of blue magic. He had a devious grin on his face. "But I can."

Lucian looked taken aback, his mouth open and his eyebrows raised. "You were able to get the High Warlock of Brooklyn on your side? Impressive, daughter of Valentine." Clary just stood there, unsure of how to respond. Alec was looking at the warlock with a slight smile on his face, though he also looked embarrassed. "You're going to heal Maia? At what cost?" The werewolf was apprehensive.

"Completely free," he grinned, walking over to where the girl was. "Consider it a favor. Charity to the rebellion."

"Charity? Magnus Bane _never _does charity work. How did you manage to arrange this, Clary?" the werewolf leader asked.

Clary stuttered to answer, unsure of what to say. She couldn't just say, _Oh, well the High Warlock of Brooklyn happens to be Alec's boyfriend. _That would sound strange.

Luckily, Magnus had her covered. "I happen to be good friends with Clarissa. We both share a burning hatred for her father." Clary tried to hide her shock, but played along with it. The warlock's eyes glinted. "Now, I should probably heal this girl before she dies, correct? That is part of the deal, isn't it?"

"Uh, yes," Lucian said, just as surprised. "Be quick. She's one of our strongest fighters."

The warlock rolled his eyes and proceeded over to where Maia lay. He waved his hands over her wound, which was oozing with blood, still. Clary deeply regretted using her silver weapons.

Maia's whole body seemed to glow a faint shade of blue before settling down to its normal color. Clary watched as the bleeding stopped and the wound closed slightly. Magnus then snapped his fingers and a bandage appeared in his hands. He wrapped it around the wound and secured it, then brushed off his hands. "Well, that was fun. She should be weak for a few days, but the wound should heal by tonight."

Clary was shocked by his impressive magic skills, but she just nodded in thanks. "Thank you so much, Magnus," she said. He was already walking out.

"Of course, Clarissa. Anything for a friend," he said, winking. He was just about to leave when Alec rushed over towards the door. He whispered something into Magnus's ear and the warlock smiled deviously before heading out.

Lucian was rolling his eyes, but he looked impressed, nonetheless. "Very nice, Clarissa Morgenstern. You have proved trustworthy to our cause. Welcome to the resistance."


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm going out of town for two weeks so I won't be able to update until August! Sorry!**

* * *

"You don't know where he is?" Isabelle asked accusingly as they sat around the table, eating breakfast. Clary sighed and ran her fork through her eggs, which suddenly seemed even less appealing. Isabelle was not the best cook to start with, and the added worry about her brother only made the breakfast worse.

"No. He . . he left me yesterday when Lucian offered me to help him. He's too loyal to our father. I assumed he returned here, but I guess not." Clary had woken up this morning and gone straight to Jonathan's room, hoping to apologize to him and get him on board with the Downworlders. But she only found his room to be empty, a few of his belongings gone, including his seraph blades and stele.

"Does your mom know?" Alec asked. Despite the obvious hatred towards Valentine, nobody seemed angry with his wife, Jocelyn. She was a wonderful person, much kinder than her husband, and often tried to persuade Valentine to be less aggressive towards the Downworlders. Most people admired her bravery and kindness in the Shadow World.

"No. She went out to breakfast this morning with my dad. And Jonathan's usually a late sleeper. They probably assumed he wasn't up yet," she sighed, resting her head on her hand. "I don't know where he'd go . . . "

"I'm sure he's fine," Jace said, pushing his plate aside. His eggs were left untouched, though he held a half-eaten mango in his hands. "Besides, I doubt he's going to come around and help us. He's practically Valentine's twin." Clary glared back at him. "Come on, it's obvious. He even dresses like your father."

Clary couldn't argue with that, though she wanted to. She loved her brother, and even her father. But both of them were just too set on this whole "Downworlders are bad" idea. Talk to them about anything besides Shadowhunting politics and they're great family. Her father's even funny sometimes, and her brother's a great listener. But mention even the smallest opinion on the Clave or the Law, and they'll both erupt into an hour long argument against your case. They would both make excellent lawyers, Clary thought.

She decided to ignore the topic of Jonathan; it would only make her worry more to talk about it. Instead, she brought up Lucian's instructions for them. "We should head out after breakfast. Hit up all the Downworlder spots, and even try to get some Shadowhunters on board. Lucian wants at least 100 more recruits by Thursday. We don't have much time until the Downworlders get angsty; they want to rebel _now. _Lucian's holding them back until we can get a larger army. There's hundreds of Shadowhunters in Idris we're going up against. We'll need as many people as we can get."

"Won't all the Downworlders want to join anyway? I mean, these are their rights we're talking about?" Alec asked, seemingly bored. He fiddled with his stele, also abandoning his plate of eggs.

"Some of them don't really care. I mean, a lot of them grew up with these laws in place. They don't realize what they're missing out on. And some are just scared. Trust me, my father's pretty frightening," she laughed. Even the times when he'd yell at her for something stupid like leaving her stele at home or screwing up in training, he had horrified Clary. He even made her cry a few times. Valentine was anything but pleasant.

"Fine. Isabelle and I will scout out Faeries and Warlocks," he sighed. I figured Magnus was going to help him, judging from the look on his face when he said _warlocks. _Clary smiled at the thought of that. Even though she didn't like Alec that much - and had only known him for a few days - she thought it was nice that he had a boyfriend.

"What?" she exclaimed, finally realizing that that meant she'd be paired with Jace for the day. "No, I'll go with Isabelle."

"It's fine, dear Clarissa," Jace laughed. "We'll cover the Werewolves and Vampires. Though I assume that Lucian's got the wolves on board."

Clary rolled her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to spend the day with the sarcastic Herondale boy. Especially after he kissed her at the Pandemonium club and then ignored her the rest of the night. What a jerk, she thought. "He has most of them, but there are some other packs we'll have to try to convince. Lucian thinks that if the Downworlders realize some Nephilim feel the same way, they might be more eager to join. Having help from the opposing side is usually a good thing."

Jace pushed back his chair and stood up, snatching his stele off the table. "Well, then, we should head off. Werewolves are usually pretty feisty, and vampires have a nasty problem with Shadowhunters. Especially when they get a whiff of Le Sang de Jace." Clary let out a puff of breath. This was going to be an interesting day.

"I'll tell Mom and Dad that we're out sightseeing," Isabelle laughed. "I'm sure they'll believe that."

"It doesn't matter," Alec said. "The worst they can do is ground us. And has that ever stopped us?"

"Never," Isabelle agreed. She recoiled her golden whip around her arm and tied her hair back in a sleek ponytail. "We'll meet back here around six, okay? Good luck." Clary was surprised by the last comment, since Isabelle didn't really come off as the encouraging type. But she pushed away her confusion and tried to focus. She heard the front door slam as the Lightwood siblings left, leaving her alone with Jace.

"Okay, let's go. We should start with the vampires. They'll be harder to convince, and Lucian only has a few of them on board. Do you know where to go?" Clary hoped Jace had a decent knowledge for where Downworlders usually resided. If not, they'd have an even longer day ahead of them.

"I've got an idea," he said. He lead her out the door and they started walking, both invisible to the mortals that passed by. "It's called Hotel Dumort."

"Of death," Clary translated. "Sounds fun." And it actually did. Clary would love a good fight right now - in fact, she was craving one. Her muscles ached to attack. But she knew that fighting is the last thing they wanted. Calm discussions would be best in this scenario.

"Oh, and you might want to put on some more of that lipstick," he noted.

"Huh?" Clary asked, taken aback.

"That lipstick you wore at Pandemonium. I liked it." He said it so casually, so nonchalantly, and then continued ahead. Clary was left standing alone in the street for a good minute before she regained her sense and caught up with him. By the Angel, this was going to be a long, long day.


	9. Chapter 9

"Just listen for a moment, will you?" Clary screamed at the vampire pinning her against the wall, his fangs exposed and glistening in the dim lighting of the abandoned hotel. After arriving at Dumort, Jace and Clary were promptly attacked by a large group of vampires, many of which tried to feed off of them. The apparent leader, a teenage boy with darker skin and sharp teeth, was holding Clary against the wall.

"Why should I listen to you, daughter of Valentine? Your father's done enough for me already," he sneered, a slight accent lingering in his voice.

"Please, we're not against you," Clary pleaded. She had her seraph blade and could easily get the vampire off of her, but she knew that fighting back was not the best way to gain trust. "We're part of the resistance _against _my father. We're trying to gain the vampires as an alliance."

The vampire's eyes narrowed and he hesitantly loosened his grip on Clary. He didn't remove his hands, but he stopped applying pressure. "Why should I believe that?"

Jace, politely for once, answered for her. He was being held back by two other vampires, each grabbing an arm. "Lucian Graymark sent us. He's the head of the New York pack, in case you didn't know." The vampire's eyes widen and Clary knew that Lucian's name must be pretty well known. And important. "We're trying to help him rise against Valentine and retake your rights. Downworlders have been treated poorly ever since the War, and we intend on changing that."

Clary closed her eyes with relief as she watched the leader seem to finally understand. He pulled his hands from her and took a step back. His friends did the same, dropping their grips on Jace and stepping aside. "I'm Raphael," the leader said.

"I'm-"

"I know who you are, Clarissa Morgenstern," Raphael said slyly, smiling slightly and crossing his arms. "And same to you, Jace Herondale." Jace looked shocked that he knew his name, but quickly hid his emotions. Clary wondered if his name was just as popular as her father's around here. He _was _a good Shadowhunter. It wouldn't surprise Clary if he was a popular figure.

"Now, what exactly does Graymark have planned?" the vampire added. "It'd be foolish to blindly join this."

Clary and Jace exchanged a look of concern. Lucian still hadn't given them many details on how this whole "resistance" thing was going to pan out. They just knew they were supposed to recruit people. "Well, uhh," Clary started, using her hands to try to explain. "You see, we're thinking-"

Luckily, Jace cut her off before she ruined their chances. "Lucian plans on rebelling attacking the Glass City on the day of the next Clave meeting. Valentine will be there, as will many other important figures. If we have enough Downworlders and Shadowhunters, we should be able to overtake them quickly. And it we'll have surprise on our side - they have no idea we're planning this."

Clary had no idea how Jace knew all of this - it was quite possible he was making it up - but she was glad that he spoke. Raphael quickly began to smile at the thought of the plan and began pacing around. His vampire friends watched him curiously, trying to read his mind. Clary was almost positive they had gotten him on their side.

The vampire leader kept walking for a few more moments before stopping, his fangs protruding horrifically from his mouth. "What's in it for us? We do need an incentive, Ms. Morgenstern."

"Your rights, of course!" Clary burst as Jace shooed her off.

"What's in it for you is the ability to reclaim the freedom that you lost in the Mortal War. Your rights will be restored, your equality will be given. Shadowhunters will treat you as you should be treated - with respect. And Lucian wants to push for a . . . seat on the Clave for each Downworld Species. You could become a representative for the vampires, help make decisions, pass laws and such. It would be a very large political investment for you to participate in the rebellion," Jace said smoothly, as if it was all rehearsed. Clary wondered again whether the information was fake or real. Had Lucian told him all this in private? Or was Jace just _that _good of a liar?

The vampire's fangs tucked inside his mouth tightly and he smiled. "Very well then. Let Lucian know we're on his side. He knows where to find me." And with that, the vampire turned away and faded into the dark of the hotel.

* * *

**Okay I know that was a very short short chapter but that's a good place to stop. PLEASE READ THIS NEXT THING: I may stop this fic. I liked it at the beginning, but I am personally losing interest in it, which is making it hard to right. I'm also having a huge writers block on what should happen next. Unless I have enough people tell me to continue (or perhaps give me some ideas) I'll probably end this here. Sorry!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Okay, so I did decide to end the story, but I thought I should at least give you a proper ending. So here it is! Thank you ClarissaxJace for being my beta for this :) I hope you guys liked it (and sorry for the abrupt ending) **

*Weeks Later*

Clary sucked in a calming breath and tried to steady herself. Her hand was shaking violently as she gripped a dagger. A dagger pointed straight at her father's chest.

She finally calmed herself and met her father's sorrowful eyes. Her father's eyes were glowing with a mixture of fear and anger. As well as something else Clary couldn't quite decipher. Betrayal, maybe? She instantly felt guilty for doing this - to her own _father _- but she knew it was what had to be done. It was a necessity; it had to be done to bring peace among the Shadow World.

"Clary," he sighed. His is eyes were fixed on the sharp knife Clary held in her tight grip. "Why are you doing this? What happened to you?" For the first time in a long while, Clary saw a bit of innocence in her father. He was genuinely concerned about his daughter. He didn't seem to care so much about himself in that moment, but only wanted to learn about her intentions before he died. Guilt washed over her, but Clary reminded herself why she had to do this. She was not going lose this battle in the last moments.

"I'm sorry, Dad," she replied, her voice scratchy and empty, "but I have to. What you did wasn't right. The Downworlders are people, too. They deserve to be treated equally, not to be thrown aside like they're not wanted. I'm just trying to set things right again."Valentine stared at her with sadness building in his eyes. Clary twisted her head away unable to look at her father.

"What now?" She asked Lucian, who was standing just a few feet away, surrounded by many of the other rebellion leaders. Raphael Santiago stood there as well, with his fangs glistening in the dark air of the night. A faerie who Clary did not know was to the right of him. Her green skin and bright eyes were slightly terrifying. Magnus Bane was off to the left and his cat eyes gleamed and blue swirls of magic danced on his finger tips.

The Lightwood siblings - Isabelle and Alec - stood opposite of Clary, each with their own weapon pointed at Valentine. And Jace Herondale was standing behind her, out of her line of sight, holding his seraph blade at her brother's chest. Clary avoided looking toward Jonathan at all costs; it was too painful. He was her brother, her _parabatai, _and now she was hurting him.

"Now," Lucian said, stepping forward to face Valentine with hatred and disgust dancing in his eyes. "We kill him."

Clary couldn't help it; her mouth dropped open. Despite all the horrible things Valentine had done, he was still her father. He taught her how to fight, helped her with her schoolwork, and tucked her in as a little girl. He had been there for her every moment of her life, and the thought of him not being there anymore horrified her. "What?" Clary gasped, snapping her head to the werewolf.

Lucian looked annoyed at Clary's surprise. Why hadn't she expected this? "Because, my dear Clarissa, he deserves it." He returned his icy glare to Valentine, who was now struggling to contain his emotions. Anger and betrayal flashed across Lucian's face. "He cast me out when I caught the lycanthropy. He just let me go as if he didn't care, he _never _cared. He still doesn't, Clary. Don't you see? He's a heartless man, a horrible leader, and a disgusting excuse for a man. He needs to die."

Clary stumbled back slightly, her dagger wavering. Valentine watched her carefully, as if timing his escape, but he knew it was useless. The Lightwoods would stop him before he moved even an inch. Clary let her guard drop for a moment and turned away, breathing rapidly. She felt the tears coming, rising inside of her, anxious to escape. How could she do this? Let alone to her _father? _It didn't seem right. Yes, she wanted to give the Downworlders their freedom back. But was killing her dad the way to go about it? How was killing her father any better than his own previous actions?

Jonathan was pressed against the wall, his arms and legs tied back. Though it would be nearly impossible for him to escape, Jace held his blade right in front of his chest, an easy distance to close if he tried anything. Jonathan looked both shocked and scared. He kept glancing at his parabatai nervously, as if waiting for her to tell him this was all a joke. Clary gave him a disdainful look. She knew Lucian wasn't going to kill him; he was only a threat with Valentine's commands. It still terrified her that he was being treated like the enemy, though. Jonathan was the good guy, Clary knew that. He just didn't know who to listen to: his father or his sister?

Our mother was being held by two large werewolves, though they were being quite gentle with her. Jocelyn hadn't put up much of a fight in this whole war. Clary believed she was secretly on the rebel's side. She sat their silently, observing as her family was slowly been torn apart. When her eyes met Clary's, she thought she saw the faintest look of pride glistening in them.

And then there was Jace, who kept giving her slight, encouraging nods. Over the past few weeks, Clary wasn't really sure what happened with her and Jace. They'd grown so much closer. They fought side by side whenever needed and aided each other with minor tasks. Clary looked at his golden, lion-like eyes and felt her heart pick up its pace. She remembered the kiss at Pandemonium and wondered for the billionth time if that was real, or if Jace just messing with her. Would he kiss her again?

"Breathe, Clary," Jace whispered softly, looking into her eyes. His eyes were calming and Clary focused on them as she tried to regain her control. Once again she held up her dagger, pointing it towards her father. But instead of acting on Lucian's commands, she turned to look back at the werewolf leader.

"What does killing him do, Lucian? We have what we wanted. We've defeated the Clave, taken control. We can make all the laws we want now. Will killing him serve a purpose? Or is it just for fun?" Clary said with rage eminent in her voice, she worried she was taking to large of a leap. They'd battled all day, fighting in the Glass City of Alicante, against their fellow Nephilim. And now they had reached the final step; they had the vicious Shadowhunter leader in their hands. Lucian surely was just as exhausted and angered; Clary wondered if she was pushing him too far.

But he simply turned to face her, his voice full of regret. "He _left _me, Clary! He abandoned me, his own parabatai. And then he attacked all of us, fought to get all of the Downworlders killed. He made our lives hell, Clarissa. He deserves to feel the same way. He deserves to _die!"_

"That didn't answer my question," Clary looked at Lucan with her confidence slowly regaining it's strength, she willed the tears welling in her eyes to stop. "_Does it serve a purpose?" _She repeated, forcing more energy into her words.

Lucian looked over to Jocelyn, who was watching him intently. She sucked in a breath and mouthed something to him, shaking her head. Lucian turned back to face Clary, his eyes now less intense, less menacing.

"No." His voice was barely a whisper, but Clary heard it all the same. He had admitted it; Valentine's death was not a necessity to the plan.

"Fine, then he lives," Clary stated simply, she lowered her weapon from his throat. "We can lock him up, keep him in our sights, whatever you want. But we have what we want now. Leave him to be."

Lucian pressed his eyes closed for a moment, thinking this through, before nodding. He tilted his head to Maia and a vampire, who were standing close by, ready to jump into action. "Lock him up. Don't let him out of your sight until someone comes for you." The two nodded and proceeded to help grab Valentine. "Lightwoods, accompany them there. Keep your weapons ready." The siblings obliged and followed the three of them out of the building towards the prison. Isabelle's whip was in hand, ready to strike if Valentine tried to escape. She looked as fierce as ever, while Alec's face was a hard stone, emotionless.

"Okay, now that we're finished with this, what do we do?" Clary asked, looking between Lucian and Jace. Surely this couldn't end so easily.

"Now, we rebuild the system," Lucian said, a small smile forming in his lips. "Form a government that provides an equal voice for Downworlders and Nephilim alike." Clary couldn't help but grin at the sound of that.

"And what of the boy and his mother?" Jace asked before Clary could get to it.

"He's no threat without a leader to follow," Lucian answered, gesturing at Jonathan. Jace quickly worked on untying his restrains. When he finished, Jonathan let out a sigh of relief, though he still seemed somewhat terrified. "And Jocelyn will work beside me to help reform the Clave."

Jocelyn's eyes brightened in surprise, her mouth popping open slightly. She wasn't defiantly not expecting that. Clary watched in awe as her mother slowly started to smile. Clary wondered if this whole time she really _was _on their side. Had she known about this from the start? Lucian smiled at her and Clary remembered how much the werewolf had cared for her mother. The look in his eyes told her he still cared for her deeply.

The werewolves quickly released her and she ran over to Clary, hugging her tightly. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered in her ear between sobs, confirming Clary's suspicions. She had always been on their side. Clay clutched her mother even tighter, not wanting the moment to ever end.

Then Jonathan was there, holding her tightly, apologizing to her in soft sobs. He held her in a large bear hug, the way he always did. Clary couldn't help but glance at their matching parabatai runes and smile. Even though Jonathan had chosen the opposing side, he was still there for her. Even after all to horrible things she had put him through.

The Downworlders began clearing out, heading off to clean up the post-war damages. Before Clary could register what was happening, Jace was pressed against her. His lips against her own and he wrapped his arms around her in a tight circle. Clary's eyes burst open in shock, but she quickly settled into his hold. She tied her arms around his neck and leaned into the kiss. It felt so good, even better than before. His lips were soft and warm against her own, fitting perfectly against her mouth. "I love you," he whispered, pulling away slightly to look into her eyes.

Clary didn't know what to say. She was so flustered and so overwhelmed from all the drama. And now _this. _The boy she met just a month ago was telling her he loved her? Even though he'd shown barely any affection towards her before? As much as it didn't make sense, Clary accepted it anyway. Jace was always there for her, even when she didn't want him to be. Some part of her knew that she was meant for this boy. "I love you, too," she told him, staring up at his unique and mysterious eyes. She just knew, that they would be together until death do them part. And secretly, Jace knew too.

She took one look outside, watching as Downworlders and Nephilim alike moved around, fixing the aftermath of the war. "Now let's go finish what we started."


End file.
